


Ashes to Ashes

by writingramblr



Category: Atomic Blonde (2017)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Heavy Angst, Lorraine has a lotta baggage, Merkel is Bill Skarsgard if anyone remembers, Multiple Orgasms, Not Beta Read, Older Woman/Younger Man, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Post-Movie(s), past Lorraine & James, past delphine & Lorraine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 16:05:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11672472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: he's got potential.he's good.just not worth her emotions.maybe some time.





	Ashes to Ashes

**Author's Note:**

> sorry apparently im really digging the older woman domming the shit out of the cute young spy.  
> don't get me wrong, yall out there doing the lords work AU-ing the ending and saving my girl Delphi, but i needed this.

 

“What kind of a name is Merkel anyway?”

The kid isn’t usually her type, but he sure does good work. He’s not like David. He’s not handsome or a snake or a traitor.

He’s cute, tall as fuck, enough to outstrip her even in heels. She shouldn’t like that as much as she does. A flip of her hair and she’s withdrawing a cigarette which he immediately moves to light, with a smirk of his own.

“It’s a code name. We’re spies, aren’t we? You’re not really Miss Blonde are you?”

“Of course.”

It doesn’t take long before they’re sharing drinks and cigarettes and bad jokes and she wonders how a good kid like him fell into work like this. He could do so much better. He’s actually a decent artist, those passport forging skills could go to good use making portfolios and books.

“You’re really hard aren’t you? Like a diamond.”

Lorraine quirks a brow over at him, through a cloud of cigarette smoke, and he just smiles a bit too sadly.

“Sorry?”

“You’ve had your dalliances. No room for one more fool with a crush, have you?”

“You?”

She’s noticed the looks, but she had hoped they were in her imagination, or just from the high boots, or low dresses. Merkel, the fuck kind of name is that, really, is looming closer, lurching towards her, and his lips are red, bitten and worried, and god, she wants to  _ ruin _ him.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Call me ma’am then you better be prepared to do what I tell you.”

“Anything.”

“Strip, then get on your knees.”

He glances around the room. The hotel room they’ve been sharing for the last two days of their op, and now they get to enjoy for another. Planning for it to be separate, Lorraine has a bottle of her favorite vodka chilling, but she’s got time, time to play.

Merkel moves quick, he’s eager, cock already hard and flushed like his pretty lips. 

She ignores it in favor of lowering her skirt, and stepping back over to him, petting her hand down his cheek, and thumbing across that bottom lip.

“Know your way around a pussy?”

His eyes sparkle,

“Yes, yes I do.”

“Good. Go on then.”

When her eyes fall shut, she can’t help thinking of someone else, and she hopes he won’t be terribly offended if when she comes, his name is the furthest thing from her lips.

Delphine was gone too young, and too soon. One of the worst things she thought she would ever do was pretend she hadn’t loved James. It turns out, that had only been the second worst. 

Falling in love twice in one decade for a fellow spy… god what the fuck was wrong with her?

 

That was why this, this whatever it was, momentary dalliance as he’d called it, would go no further than this room, this night, and she would be okay with it. Her thighs trembled and her voice caught as she bit her tongue, and shuddered through a second climax. The kid did indeed know what he was doing, damn him. She pulls him away from her cunt by fisting her hand in his hair, and he looks up at her like a dying man, before whimpering, begging.

“Please Miss Blond, may I kiss you?”

“You just did, dear boy.”

He licks his lips, and never looks away from her eyes, his own, dark and endless, liquid, as if he’s been on the verge of tears.

“Your mouth. Your lipstick. I wanna taste like you.”

“Come along now, finish off on my boots, then maybe I’ll let you kiss me.”

His hands been idle on his thighs, not touching himself, and she sees his cock weeping against his stomach, before he gives it a slow stroke, and then his back arches as he gasp through his own orgasm. The boy gets off on being told what to do, whether by her, or by whoever he’s with. It’s endearing and hot all at once.

“I just… fuck… I just want to please you.”

His come is glistening on the black leather of her boots, obscene and shiny in the neon blue of the lights over the bed, and she sighs. Too tired to argue, too pleasantly giddy to fight him.

“Let’s go shower. Then we can fuck.”

 

In the shower, he hugs her from behind, kisses her shoulder blades which are usually covered in bruises, and she allows it, she lets him hump against her ass, because he’s a fucking kid, and he’s already hard again. “You can touch me, you know.”

He does, happy to be given the chance, she supposes. His fingers are wet with water and slip slide through her folds, before curling just inside by an inch, and almost getting her off, and making her choke on shower spray.

“Fuck. Okay. I need to wash my hair.” 

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, just… be patient.”

He gets out first, towels off, and then heads to the bed that they haven’t been sharing. He’s been the gentleman, kept to the lush couch. Lorraine sighs, and eventually follows, once she’s  rinsed her hair and toweled it off enough not to drip. She walks out and finds him touching himself on the bed, eyeing her with a lazy grin.

“That’s not nearly as sexy as you think it is.”

She’s lying. 

He paints a pretty picture, and he’s tall enough that they might be able to fuck lying down, spooning, like pathetic lovers and it would be comfortable. She doesn’t want that right now. She wants to ride him within an inch of his life, maybe get him to beg, to cry. She’s so tired.

“Condoms… lube?”

She snorts. Of course he’s prepared for a fuck at any time,  _ look _ at him.

“Yes ma’am.”

He lays back and fumbles for both things, tearing the foil and slipping the condom on before putting a ridiculous amount of lube on his cock. 

“Calling me an old woman are you? Think I can’t get wet enough for you?”

Merkel blinks, and then stutters,

“O-oh no. I didn’t mean to imply-”

She presses a manicured fingertip to his mouth, and smiles,

“Shh-hh. Not to worry. I’ll handle your, ample goods.”

With her palm flat on his chest, she can feel his thundering heartbeat, like butterfly wings under his skin, and when he watches her climb onto him, before sitting primly right down on his cock, he lasts a handful of seconds before closing his eyes.

“Good boy. There you go.”

“Fucking christ...you feel amazing.”

“Yes, I know. Now go on, fuck me.”

His hands find her hips, and he grips tight, like a madman, desperate to come but also show her a good time. He doesn’t do badly, and she’s almost content, until her own eyes slide shut, and all she can think about is James. He loved when she would be on top. He called her his silver goddess.

“Oh god, I’m gonna-”

“Shut up.”

She doesn’t care, she rides him harder once he’s come, and he does whimper, he cries, he begs, overstimulation almost painful, but somehow, he manages to relax, and gives in to her will. When she finally comes for the last time, falling over him to brace herself against the pillow under his head, she gasps, and curses all at once, and feels his blunt nails digging into her skin. He squirms under her and his hips jolt as he finds his own release, somehow.

He might want her off, but she’s not ready, not quite yet. He wanted a kiss. 

Lorraine smiles, breathless, and slowly lifts off of his cock, but remains straddling him, leaning down to graze her mouth over his own, flushed and bitten one.

“Thanks kid. You did good.”

“I think you broke my dick.”

“Unlikely, go try and take a piss. See if it still works.”

Merkel chokes on a laugh, and then winces.

“You’re right. Good idea.”

She rolls over onto the bed, and watches him go, admiring the pale stretch of exposed skin, and humming to herself. He’s a good kid. He’ll go far.

He’s not a bad lay, but she’s not about to start a regular thing with someone half her age.

By the time he comes back, she’s curled up on her side, under the sheets, damp hair cool under her neck. He gets into the bed and tries to ease in close, but she stops him with a hand to his chest.

“Back off. I don’t do cuddling.”

“Oh… okay. Sorry. I’m not too good at this, whole thing.”

“Mhm. You’ll figure it out.”

“You want to know something?”

Lorraine rolls her eyes so he can’t see,

“What is it?”

“My real name is Will.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“What’s yours?”

“I think you know.”

 

 

* * *

end


End file.
